


Do Watcha

by Trash



Category: Bandom, McFly
Genre: Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom should have known asking Harry to stay away from Dougie had been too easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Watcha

**Author's Note:**

> For Ella

They played "what if" whilst Dougie tuned his bass by ear so slowly Tom could feel himself ageing. ("Mate, use the electric tuner." "No." "Why not? It's quicker." "Your mum's quicker.")

"What if I hadn't been kicked out of Busted?" Tom asked. 

"You'd have started your own band by now. So you'd be right here, being a whinge bag."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm not being a whinge bag I just don't understand why you're doing something that is so labour intensive when you could just use the electric tuner."

Dougie plucked a string and pressed his ear to the amp, plucked again. "All we do in this life is take shortcuts, my friend. Bet you even used a kettle to make your tea this morning."

"Why, what did you do? Light a fire in your back garden?"

"No. I used a kettle."

Tom threw his hands up in dismay. "It's your turn."

"What if I asked Harry out?" Dougie twisted a machine head and plucked again, set his bass down across his lap and narrowed his eyes at Tom. 

"Are we still playing the game or are you asking me for advice?"

Dougie shrugs. 

"You'd go to the pictures, go back to your house and fall asleep in separate beds."

"I doubt it."

"Please don't ask Harry out, Doug. That isn't something that will end well."

Dougie bristled. "Why not?"

"It's nothing personal. I'm just not a believer of mixing work and play like that. What happens if it turns sour? You've still got to see each other all the time. You can't run away from him in the streets like you do with Frankie."

"That was one time!"

"You know what I mean," Tom said. He smiled softly to show Dougie some sympathy but, really, it came out more like a grimace. 

***

Tom watched Harry dip his hands into his bucket of gymnastic chalk and coat his drumsticks slowly. When Harry realised Tom was watching he wet his lips seductively and started to wank his drumstick off, eyes slipping closed. 

"Yeah, yeah, know your audience."

Harry laughed, set his sticks down and clapped the excess chalk from his hands. "Did you want something?"

Tom sat on the spare stool, gripping his knees with his hands. "I need a favour. Okay, well, it's more than that. I need you to promise me something."

"Right."

"Dougie is going to ask you out."

"Sweet."

Tom frowned. "No. No, it's not. I need you to promise you won't say 'yes' to him."

"Okay."

"Really?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, alright. You going back to the control room? I want Dallas to see if this sounds okay."

"Yeah," Tom said, pushing himself to his feet. In the control room he took a seat in the corner with a notepad. It all seemed too easy - Harry could start a fight in the empty room at the best of times. The drum fill gave his heart a rhythm to beat to as the thoughts whirring around his head found themselves in the form of words on the paper. 

***

Dougie filled a plastic cup with water from the cooler and lined it up with the other nine he had prepared earlier. 

"Ready?" Harry asked, getting the timer ready on his phone. "Go!"

Dougie grabbed the first cup and chugged it, crushing it and throwing it over his shoulder before moving onto the next one. By the time he got onto the tenth his shirt was soaked and there was a puddle growing beneath him that looked suspiciously like piss. 

Harry managed to stop his timer but couldn't speak for laughing. Holding his phone up to a soggy Dougie he coughs uncontrollably. 

"Alright, Typhoid Mary? Want some water?"

"Nah, what about a pint? Of coke?"

***

They couldn't find a pub that didn't look questionable so they went to a cheap looking diner. Their cokes came with rainbow curly straws. Dougie ordered chips and is pissed off when he gets crisps. 

"Fucking Doritos mate, they're not even close to crisps."

Harry stole one from his plate, "Doritos are just big crisps."

"No, Pringles are big crisps."

"Can we have a serious conversation for a second?" Harry asked. 

Dougie' a face fell. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay. Do you want to go out with me?"

Dougie coughed, choking on his coke. "Is this one of your jokes that I don't get?"

"Oh, cheers."

"No," Dougie said, shaking his head, "I didn't mean it like that. I don't want to make a wally of myself by saying one thing or the other if you're taking the piss."

Harry nodded, looked out the diner window. 

"Are you being serious?"

"Jesus. Yes, I was being serious but it doesn't matter, alright?" Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand and staring around gloomily. 

The waitress came and took Dougie's empty plate, people came and people went. They'd both finished their drinks by the time Dougie said, "Yeah. Yes. I'd love to go out with you."

"Sound half arsed to me. I don't want a pity date."

Dougie laughed, a soaring feeling of joy overwhelming him. "Get over yourself, Judders." He blushed, twisted his bracelet around and around his wrist. "I was actually building up the confidence to ask you the same thing."

"Were you?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Harry said, smiling, "do you want to go to the pictures?"

Dougie laughed. "No way."

They made a beeline for the hotel and Dougie let Harry pull him into his room. 

"I have Dorito breath," Dougie warned, holding Harry at arms length. 

"That's okay, my dick won't know." Harry pushed him to his knees and unfastened his jeans. 

Dougie wasn't surprised that Harry was already hard - horny bastard - but he was surprised by his urgency, his hand grabbing a handful of Dougie's hair and pulling him forward. He moaned, dropping his head back as he thrust into Dougie's mouth. 

This wasn't exactly how Dougie had pictured it, but he had wanted this for a while and he wasn't about to say no.

***

In the morning Dougie woke up alone. It took him a while to work out where the fuck he was, what time it was, and who he was, and it soon all came hurtling back to him along with a stinking headache. He'd had hangovers from hell in his time and he knew better than to hurry anything. He rolled out of bed slowly and looked around the room. Where the fuck were his boxers?

He hobbled around the room in a moderate amount of pain and pulled on his T-shirt and boxers, draping his jeans over his arm. He stepped out into the hallway at the exact same time as Tom emerged from his own room. They both looked at each other for a long moment before Dougie glanced down at the love bites sucked all over his thighs. When he looked back up Tom was smiling sympathetically. 

"Day off today, mate."

"Good job," Dougie said, limping across the hall to his hotel room door. Tom followed him, helped him find his keycard in the pocket of his jeans. 

Inside, Tom made a beeline for the bathroom and started filling the bath using an entire bottle of hotel bubble bath. Dougie dipped a toe in cautiously before climbing in and sinking below the bubbles with a hiss. 

"Too hot?" Tom asked. 

Dougie shook his head, tight lipped and pale, "Nope."

Tom flipped the lid of the toilet seat and sat on it, watching Dougie shift uncomfortably in the bath. "I don't want to say I told you so..."

"Well, before you get on your little soap box and have a go at me, let me tell you that Harry asked me out." Dougie slid down until only his head could be seen above the mountain ranges of bubbles.

Tom knew it had been too easy, talking Harry out of saying 'yes' when Dougie inevitably propositioned him. He had meant to discourage them, not plant a seed. He swallows, pushes his glasses higher up his nose. "What happened?"

Dougie relayed as much of the story to Tom as he could, withholding the details of Harry pushing him face down onto the bed and fucking him until he could barely move. The PG version was as shocking as the 18 rated version, apparently, judging by the shocked look on Tom's face. 

"So, you had sex? On the first date?"

"It wasn't really a date," Dougie said. "We went to a diner. It was like a bloody Little Chef." He tried to smile, but his face ached from Harry fucking it.

"He really did a number on you," Tom said. 

Dougie nodded, "But I really like him, Tom. I hope he wasn't just after a one night stand." Sitting up, Dougie drew his knees to his chest to rest his head on them. 

"Do you want something to eat, Doug?" Tom asked, getting up and moving toward the bath. He ran a hand through Dougie's damp hair. Dougie nodded. "Okay, I'll bring something back. Take it slow, okay?"

***

Tom found Harry and Danny taking photos of the conveyor toaster and laughing behind their hands as other hotel guests looked on in vague disgust. 

Tom stood behind Danny and watched a croissant creep slowly through the toaster on fire and choked on a laugh. "Mate, what a waste if a croissant. Do you reckon a pain au chocolat will burn, too?"

They fed inappropriate items into the toaster and film them for a good ten minutes before anyone said anything. 

"We should ring Dougie, he'll piss himself laughing at this," Danny said, wiping away a tear of laughter as Tom pushed an apple into the toaster. 

"He's in the bath, had a rough night."

Danny raised an eyebrow and watched Tom and Harry glare at each other out of their peripheral vision. "Woah, did you shag him, Tom?"

"No! I'm married!"

Danny shrugged. "So?"

"Harry shagged him. Not me. And now he's in the bath licking his wounds. Literal wounds. What did you do to his chest?"

"Lighter burns," Harry said. 

"Alright, Christian Grey, can you please stop maiming our bassist?"

"It was one time," Harry said, "and it won't happen again."

"You need to tell him that," said Tom, holding out the room key. "Because I'm not kidding, he's crying in the bath like a virgin over this."

"Dougie's a virgin?" Danny spluttered. 

Harry winked, "Not anymore."

***

Harry found Dougie sitting on the bed wrapped in a towel, patches of cream dabbed on his chest like war paint. "Y'alright?"

Dougie watched him, moved along to make room for him to sit down. "A bit sore," he said. 

Harry nodded, looked him up and down. "I'm sorry I left. I was well hungry. Tom said he'd bring you something up."

"Is that all he said?"

"Yeah, why?"

Dougie shrugged, played with his fingers. 

"So. This is pretty awks. I don't want last night to be the last time we do that. And I don't want you doing that with anyone else."

Dougie blinked. 

"So...I want you to be my boyfriend."

Dougie's stare was blank for a moment. "You don't do relationships. You've said that. Only one night, you said, and never let them stay until morning."

"Yeah, well. You're different."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Let's do it."

***

After the record came out and the tour began Tom had hoped maybe they'd get bored and pack it in. He watched them prance around backstage like a pair of love sick virgins until he was pretty sure he was giving himself ulcers from the stress of it all. He was grinding his teeth. Danny sat got up from where he was doing press ups in the middle of the room made himself comfortable beside Tom on the couch and said "That is so annoying."

"I know. I know! It's not that I don't want them to be happy, you know? But Harry is just playing with him but if I say that to Dougie he'll go off it with me."

Danny nodded as Dougie ran past the dressing room door, closely followed by Harry, the pair of them laughing hysterically. "Yeah. I was talking about you grinding your teeth."

Tom crossed his arms across his chest and slid further down into the couch. 

"Don't sulk, mate. I don't know why you're letting it piss you off so much. I don't care who they play hide the sausage with as long as it isn't upsetting the tour in any way."

"It will," Tom said, "it will eventually. I don't see how this can end any other way."

***

Dougie didn't tell anyone, so it isn't clear how Tom found out. But all of a sudden he knew, and he was eager for them to meet alone so he could discuss his disapproval for the whole thing. They finished their sound check and Harry stepped down from the drum riser, waiting patiently for Dougie to unload his bass to his tech before slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

He leaned in, whispered "What you doing now?" He hadn't shaved, and his stubble grazed against Dougie's cheek. He smelled faintly of aftershave and his skin was warm, flushed from rehearsing. Dougie felt every bone in his body turn to jelly. 

"You?"

Harry grinned, clapped him on the back. "Correct answer."

Tom was standing there when Dougie prised his gaze away from Harry and managed to stop fantasising about them doing it against the wall underneath the fire escape stairs outside. He looked unimpressed. 

Harry's face went dark and he slunk away, wiping chalk from his hands onto his jeans. Dougie watched him until he disappeared into the wings, turned to look at Tom slowly. "Y'alright mate?"

"Can we talk?"

Dougie should have said no. But he didn't. He has always been and will always be a people pleaser. They made their way down the artist's corridor, Tom pushing every door open until he found an empty dressing room. Dougie flicked on the lights and sat himself on the counter, his back against the mirrors. 

"Harry told me your relationship was a one night stand," Tom said. 

Dougie stared at him. "Right."

"And I didn't want to tell you. Because I know you love him."

"You don't know that," Dougie laughed. "We're just having a good time, Tom, don't take everything so seriously."

Tom flinched as if struck. "I wish everybody would stop saying that to me. I'm just looking out for you Doug."

"I know you are. But I'm a big boy, and I can look out for myself," Dougie said as he pushed himself down from the counter. 

"I don't want him to hurt you," Tom pleaded as Dougie turned to leave. "Would you listen to me?" He said, grabbing the bassist's forearm. 

Dougie hissed and pulled away, clutching his arm to his chest. 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Tom hurried forward to take Dougie's hand in his own, pushing up his shirt sleeve with the other. He tightened his grip when Dougie tried to pull away and they both stared in silence at the four, bright purple bruises on the inside of his arm, shades of sickening yellow fading away in other places. 

"How did you do this, Doug?" Tom asked gently. 

Dougie shook him off, rolled his sleeve down and fastened the cuff with shaking hands. "I'm not going to get hurt, okay? I'm going to be fine. If it was just a one night stand then he changed his mind, because he is waiting for me right now. For sex. Does that bother you, Tom? That we're both happy together?"

Tom held up his hands in defence, "Woah, of course it doesn't bother me. I'm happy for you both. And I don't give a shit about your sex life. I'm just worried."

"Well, get over it." Dougie stomped out of the room and, by the time Tom pulled himself together, he had disappeared altogether. 

***

Dougie eventually found Harry leaning against the wall under the fire escape surrounded by members of the arena's security team. They past a suspiciously thick looking cigarette between them and laughed loudly, obnoxiously. 

"What did one homo say to another homo who was going on holiday?" One of the security team asks. 

Harry was already laughing. "I don't know."

"Can I help you pack your shit?"

They all laughed louder than before and slapped each other on the back, congratulating each other on their humour. Dougie wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

"Wait, wait, I know one," said Harry, "what's the difference between a gay man and a fridge?"

"I don't know."

"The fridge doesn't fart when you pull the meat out."

They all fell about laughing again and Dougie hovered awkwardly, his skin crawling. He was just contemplating ducking back inside when Harry stubbed the joint out on the wall and caught him. 

"Hi, Doug."

"Hello."

"What's the first symptom of AIDS?"

Dougie didn't want to know. 

"Come on, it's a joke," Harry said, forcefully. "Can't you take a joke?" His eyes narrowed. 

Dougie could hear Harry's voice in his head saying "Don't embarrass yourself in front of other people." So he asked, "I dunno, what's the first symptom of AIDS?"

"A pounding sensation in the arse."

One of the security spat his coffee out onto the ground whilst the other wiped tears of laughter from their eyes. Dougie managed a weak laugh that didn't go unnoticed by Harry. 

"That's hilarious," Dougie said, forcing a smile. 

The security patted Harry on the back as they turned away and walked back indoors through the fire exit. On the way in they bumped into a colleague and Dougie could hear one of them laughing, "Hey, Mercer, what's the first symptom of AIDS?"

Dougie watched Harry flick the joint butt away and put his hands in his pockets. "You wanted me to meet you here."

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"And?"

"And nothing. Bloody hell, you're getting like Tom with all these questions."

Dougie cleared his throat and stared at the ground. "Actually, speaking of Tom...he says he is worried about me."

"Why?"

"I have bruises on my arms. He saw them."

Harry tilted his head so he was looking down his nose at Dougie, lips pressed tightly together. "And is that a problem?"

"We had a massive fight about it."

"Well you didn't need to. You could have just told him to mind his own bloody business."

"No I couldn't," Dougie sighed.

Harry stepped forward, backing Dougie up against the wall. "Okay. Maybe it would be easier if there was nothing to be his business?"

"What do you mean?" Dougie asked, palms pressed flat against the stone. 

"I mean we should split up. Maybe then things will be easier for you with Tom. No more bruises or lies, though I'm sure you said that is what you wanted."

Dougie blinked back tears and tried to find his voice. "You're what I want, just you. It won't be a problem, really. It's okay."

"No. It's not." Harry stepped back and his expression turned into a smile that could break his face. "I had fun, Doug. Cheers." He patted Dougie's shoulder and walked away, not looking back. 

***

Tom will be over the moon, is all Dougie could think as he lapped the buses in the loading bay over and over. He could see his breath as he walked, looking up at the stars. The gates to the loading bay were still open and he wanted to do a runner, just give it legs as far as he could. But he refused to hear 'I told you this would ruin the band'.

He made it back to the dressing room in time for a prep talk from their manager and to be cornered by Danny going "What's the difference between a fridge and a homosexual?"

Dougie brushed him away and left the dressing room to find his bass tech. He threaded his ear piece under his shirt and hooked it round his ear, going through the motions. The sound of the crowd was deafening, he could hear his name on the lips of their fans.

Danny appeared and smiled easily, running a hand over his hair. "Have you warmed up?" 

"No."

Danny launched into a list of reasons to do vocal warm ups but Dougie wasn't listening, he could smell Harry's cologne and then felt the warmth of his body pressing against his back. 

"Well, we're all very concerned for Dougie's health all of a sudden, aren't we?"

"He's no good to us if he can't perform," Danny laughed, ruffling Dougie's hair. 

"Definitely. Did I tell you about that time he couldn't get it up? Talk about inability to perform."

"Wow. A big dose of too much information there, mate."

Dougie slunk away whilst Harry tried to explain the situation to Danny with elaborate hand gestures. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they hadn't missed him yet and walked straight into Tom. 

"Woah. You okay?"

Dougie laughed, his voice catching in his throat. "I want you to hear this from me," he said, scratching absently at a half-healed burn on the inside of his forearm. "Harry dumped me. So I guess that means you warned me. And you win. And whatever."

"No. I don't win. Nobody wins."

Dougie nodded. A wave of sadness crashed over him and he suddenly felt too tired to do anything. He wanted to say as much to Tom but all of a sudden it was their cue and they were being whisked away and toward the stage. 

***

Having a hotel room to himself is a novelty. The ringing in his ears is all there is to be heard. He ran himself a bath and tried not to think of Harry but thoughts of him came easier than forgiveness ever could. More than anything he just wanted things to go back to how they were. He should have listened to Tom. 

After his bath he sat on his bed and watched a David Attenborough documentary about false widow spiders and picked his nail varnish from his nails until they were red raw around the edges. Instead of self destructing as was so tempting Dougie grabbed a pen and his journal. 

He tore out every page that was about Harry and stomped barefoot to the window, pushing it open as wide as the child-safety catch would allow and dumping the paper out. The wind caught it and lifted it, all his deepest thoughts and feelings carried away. 

That done he sat back down and began to write, words all in capitals and carved into the page. Harry would get his comeuppance, everybody did eventually. When he finally became articulate enough to form a sentence he found that lyrics came to him through his blood. 

_Hug me in the night like a wolf in the dark._ He could feel Harry’s hands on his skin, gentle touches over old bruises. A tear drop smudged the ink and he wiped his eyes, surprised. But then he found himself laughing, laughing hysterically. He lay down on the bed and clutched his stomach as he giggled. Suddenly the laughter turned to crying, and he curled up on his side as sobs wracked his body.


End file.
